23/05/07 El Burgo de Ebro to Monzalbarba

23/05/07

El Burgo de Ebro to Monzalbarba

The walk into the village was a bit more than 2km, probably nearer 4km. Arriving hungry and longing for a coffee I could see no café so asked and was given the direction of the Centro Social. This, for those that don't understand Spanish, is the place the senior citizens use. They are cheap, very good and normally don't object to someone off the street coming into their café. I came into the entrance and looked about. I turned to my right and could see tables and chairs through a glass door on the same wall as I had entered by. My big green cape was hanging on my rucksack so it could be pulled round if the weather changed. So, like batman I pushed through the door. To my left was the bar, I leant my staffs against the wall and set about getting off the rucksack, so that I could put it on a chair at a table. This all takes a while and the few customers looked on, eyes wide. I unthreaded the belt through my waistcoat and at last I was free. Checking the bag was not going to fall over, I went up to the bar. There was a door into the kitchen at the far end and I could hear somebody in there. I waited a while then I called out. A lady came in wiping her hands on a towel. I ordered a large flat white and sat on a barstool and drank it. I then asked if I could get anything to eat. 'Of course' she said and ran off a list of bocadillos. I chose tuna and asked if she would mind if I used the washrooms to clean up first. She assured me there was no problem and that they were in the hall. Everything was spotless, a big mirror on the wall told me it was about time I shaved and made myself respectable again! When I went back, my bocadillo was ready - a very big crusty loaf loaded with goodies! I ordered a 'tinto de verano' and retired to the table by my rucksack. Everyone was friendly and I chatted and asked the bar lady if she would stamp my guidebook. This she did and as it wanted dating I asked if I could buy a pen as I had lost mine. She found a nice small one that advertised the café and insisted I take it, so I had a nice souvenir too. I felt she had brightened my day and went and retrieved a koala from my bag.
"I carried this little bear all the way from Australia just for you," I quipped as she took it from me, smiling and showed it around.
"My little grand daughter will love him she replied."
As I left Burgo it was raining a little. Another 8km brought me to Cartuja Baja where I had a nice bocadillo in a café in the square. They too were friendly and I had a coffee and a clara.
I found my way out of the small town and set off towards Zaragoza. I text Maisie I was going well and heading for Zaragoza.




As with most big Spanish towns this was a rotten walk. Busy streets, poor pavements. Some were flooded so badly I had to risk climbing over the concrete traffic barrier and running the gauntlet with the traffic till the water on the pavement finished, then climb back over the wall onto the path again. I tried not to do this in a couple of places but it was too deep and my feet got wet anyway so I now had to walk in soaking boots! Loose tiles, holes filled with muddy water so you couldn't see how deep they were, more water right across the pavement and in miserable rain!!! After a while I could see I was nearing the old town straight ahead! But now I came too a big cross roads. It had stopped raining. The arrow pointed to the right so I turned and followed the now new wide tile pavement. I had not been able to sit on anything since I left the last town and was tired, but this boulevard had no place to rest, not one single seat in it's entire length!!! This curving path seemed to go on forever. Then when I reached the end things got more confusing, no markers anywhere. I needed to rest and I looked for a café and had to cross the busy road. In the square on the far side I found a small bar. I dumped the rucksack on a chair. There were very few customers, at the counter. When the waiter eventually decided to serve me, I ordered a coffee and having got it, I was asked to move by another man who insisted he wanted to sweep the floor under my barstool! Annoyed I left the bar counter and sat with my bag and finished the drink. I then asked the barman for directions to the albergue. He was no help at all and just said it was too far to walk and I should take the bus and he gave me its number. A little peeved, I left and looked at my guidebook again and decided to take a chance and keep straight on. I came to a big junction and asked directions from a lady, who acted as if I was going to mug her and hurried away. OK! I for one understood that feeling. I tried again, no one wanted to understand what I was saying. Crossing over I tried again. This time I was given directions get to the cathedral. The book said I should pass there anyway.

I found it and opposite in the big square in front, I saw a tourist office so got a town plan. I was also told I should look in the cathedral to see the wondrous pillar of Saint Pilla. I went in and while big and impressive I found I didn't feel comfortable and I could find no nice little candles to light, just some big ones. I walked round and found a place to say my thanks for a safe journey.














The pillar I was looking forward to seeing turned out to be a small brass ring recessed in the wall letting one kiss a pillar behind it! It could be a bit of stone the size of your hand for all you could see. I was unimpressed.
Directions to the albergue from here were still not clear, but I could trace the way out of town with my new map, the odd yellow arrow and my old guidebook. Ok I did not like this town! Anyway after Barcelona I thought I would be better off in a smaller town's albergue.









I set off but there was roadwork and barriers everywhere! I had to ask a workman how I was expected to get down the road in front of me at one point. He sent me across the busy road and down in front of shops with a barricade on the pavement. I went down this corridor for ages and eventually out onto the street. Another km or so keeping straight on I came to a big junction with lots of traffic and no arrows and could not find it on my book directions. I stood on the pavement looking worried and scratching my head. A police car pulled up from the left and I asked them for the camino to Santiago and was told the road works had destroyed the way and arrows!
"You need to cross over and go left, then take a right and go straight on."
I crossed over and as I got to the right turn, the police car came by again waving at me to take this road. I thought that a nice gesture and waved a thank you and went to the right. The buildings now started to get less and I went along a levy bank that was being raised. I was soon in the country and walking near the river again.
The next village I came too was Monzalbarba and I now saw that according to my guidebook it had no Albergue nor had the next two! I was extremely tired, the city walking and the 7.6 out of Zaragoza had sapped much of my strength. I must find somewhere and there had been no hope of putting the tent up. I wanted a good nights sleep anyway.
A bench, in fact a row of benches! There was an old man on the first and I joined him. He said he was not sure but thought there was no Fonda (cheap hostel) or albergue here. I was on the last of my water and drank a little and set off again. I came to what looked like a bar and went in and asked for coffee but was told they were closing! When I explained my problem the four men were very helpful and gave me several small bottles of water, an orange T-shirt with their Peña el Trillo on it and a baseball type of cap. We became friends and I swapped a koala and email addresses and I took a photo promising to send it to them.


(Sadly I now find the email doesn't work), I left the cap behind with them but thanked them for the shirt as mine were all in need of a wash!
"If you hurry the bar just up the road facing the square might have a room for you. It should be cheap enough."
I found the bar, by the tower with the clock and storks (cigüeña) perched in their nest on the top. The bar was called of course Cigüeña. The bar was full of young people and the young lady behind the bar went off to ask her mum if there was a room. She came back with a key and took me out through the door again and into the next door and up the stairs. Not easy when you're tired and with a big rucksack on your back. The stairs were wet, at the top Mum was washing the staircase. Oops! So that was why it was wet I thought, not last nights rain! At the top a big discussion went on and the young girl ran down again while the mum carried on cleaning. I tried to apologise for walking on her wet floor. She shrugged and I presumed it didn't matter. The girl came back and opened a different door than the one she had tried first and I was shown into a small L shaped room with a skylight only. There was a basin in the room. I could manage here the bed seemed OK. There was a toilet on the landing complete with a shower in the bath. I had a shower and did my washing and strung a line across the room from the basin to a chair. I hung the washing there to dry, it made getting to and from the bed difficult! There was little or no air current to help things dry. I put on my nice new orange T-shirt and went down to try to get some food. The tapas were good but they never seem to fill you up and can be a bit expensive.

Tired I returned to my bedroom. The night was great except when the clock in the tower stuck, the birds would wake and clack their bills and make a fuss then go back to sleep, a thing I found hard to do!

END DAY 8 = 20.2 Kms Total = 185.8 kms according to book [Monzalbarba is 7.6km beyond Zaragoza]

22/05/07 Quinto to El Burgo de Ebro

22/05/07

Quinto to El Burgo de Ebro

I repacked my tent in to the rucksack, rolled up the plastic sheet and put it in a side pocket to take with me. I soon came to a section where they had been working, putting in the big pipes and they had left no room to walk. I had to scramble as best as I could over the fill heaps at the side of the trench. I was very glad of my two sticks. Once past a big trench digger, I found the trench had been filled in and got on better. The railway was on my left and I tried to keep sight of it but there were few arrows and the track seemed to wander in almost all directions. Then at one point the path just seemed to stop leaving me in the middle of a field!!! I pushed through the canes on the left at the far end and from the field I now entered I walked across towards where I hoped the railway was. I came to another farm track and it seemed to be heading in the right direction. Sometime later I met the railway line and saw the familiar arrow. I came eventually to a deserted station and could not find the camino again! So I worked my way round the old building and walked onto the deserted platform. I took out my guidebook. According to the guidebook the camino should somewhere cross over the railway line! Ok, then I would walk by the side of the rail till I came to it. I jumped down off the platform. Struggling over rubbish, old sleepers and weeds for a while, there was defiantly no path. <bk>
I did eventually come to a bridge over the railway line. To my surprise on one concrete pillar a huge painted yellow arrow was pointing up the far side of the bridge ramp. I was very happy to be back on track. My next camino arrow was at the bottom of the ramp but didn't tell me to cross the bridge and the railway here, but was now pointing to a farm track that ran parallel again. I was to cross later. The next town must have been Fuentes de Ebro but I have no photo and can't say I remember it much, except I needed water and food and here I found both. A fountain that worked was discovered in front of the town hall, and nearby a supermarket. Here, while I was chatting to the owner as I paid, I was given a nice juicy orange, "A little something to help you on your way" he smiled. I was very touched by this little gift and I was to remember him much later as I hugged the Santo at the end of my journey. I remember passing miles of pretty uninteresting farm country and the big factory of Saica. I came to a track junction where there was a considerable amount of roadwork in process. I walked on a bit more and decided to camp in a peach orchard on the left of the gravel track.
Unfortunately the fruit were not ripe. The opposite side of the road was a 6mt strip of weeds, then a canal! Under the peach trees I had soft grass and flat ground and some shelter, I could wash my pots and cooking things in river water, even wash my socks and hang them in the trees. Mind you it was a devil of a job to get the water and not fall in. Also the long grass seeds that grew there drove me mad getting into my socks. I spent ages later pushing them through and pulling them out from the other side, it took ages. Miss one and it will dig into the skin and irritate for days, even after the culprit is removed. I cooked myself stew and ate it and did my washing and washed up. I retired to my tent to rest. I would sleep ok once the workers had gone home and I was not likely to be moved on I thought.

I text Maisie Maisie text back That's 26.3 kms Are your boots OK? No blisters this time?

I had not told her my feet had started to blister way back and I had been treating them before I came to bed. I had bad blisters on the ball of the foot, that was normal for me but a new one today on the heel was deep and painful! There was defiantly not enough room in this small tent, even turning over was a major drama! I thought while trying to fall asleep that I would get breakfast in the small town of El Burgo de Ebro in the morning, after all it was just a couple of kilometres further on.

END DAY 7 = 26.2 Km's Total = 165.2 km's according to book

20/05/07 Chiprana to Escatrón

Sun 20/05/07

Chiprana to Escatrón

I saw the sunrise and took a photo of the mist. The rain had stopped, the fields looked soggy and wet and the ground around me was all soft and boggy. Luckily inside my rucksack everything was dry. I now changed into dry clothes, I pushed the sleeping bag into its little sack, and put everything inside the rucksack, except some socks and pants that I had left out side last night to dry! These I collected up and wringing them out as much as I could, I pinned them on the outside. Last I draped the wet tent around it, and strapped it there. I was at last ready to go. I understood from my guidebook that I was to cross a railway line twice but I think this might have been a high-tension electric line and I might have misinterpreted. I was in the middle of god knows where. At one point I was crossing open ground and praying to see some indication of the camino. At last an arrow but it was still not too clear if I was going the right way. I came to a highway and followed it. My book said follow the A224 but this was the A221 had I stuffed up on the translation again? A signpost said Chiprana was 33k in one direction, where as my book said I should cover 17.5 to Escatron!! I started down one road but felt it was going in the wrong direction so went back and this time saw that it was another way, some confusion with a 'place of Escatron' rather than the town itself!!! I found the track and later came to a fork, left was signed camino but straight ahead was a steep bank that scrambler motorcycles had used. I decided to climb up and see if it was a shortcut. At the top I took a chance and sure enough soon came to a road and a bridge with an arrow. I crossed the bridge and turned down a dirt track, but soon came back onto the road and crossed over and down another track. I disturbed a lady sunbathing in her garden, oops! She pulled a wrap around herself as she came across to see what the noise was as my feet crunched on the gravel as I walked by. I pretended I hadn't seen anything! Back on the highway again I walked and eventually almost reached Escatron. Now taking the marked camino I walked down a little used track and came to an old Roman bridge and also a few wooden picnic tables almost hidden in long grass. The camino path went on alongside the river, past the end of the bridge. It had been bulldozed recently and was quite muddy. I met a couple of chaps that had been fishing and were packing up. A large fish, a bit like a pike, lay on the ground at the back of their van. I chatted and got instructions that I would find better and cheaper accommodation and food if I ignored the town and stayed by the river. I came onto a road and there ahead was a nice hostel (El Embarcadero) facing the river and a jetty. I went in and asked how much and would I be able to dry my things here. I had a coffee while waiting for the boss. I was shown a nice room and there was a long balcony type passageway along the front and here he said I could dry my things on the rail. It was quite breezy and they all dried well and I put them all away by nightfall. I had a nice meal and felt much better and walked into the old town but as it was Sunday everywhere was closed of course!!!
The book said there was a monastery for peregrinos but I was lucky stopping at the El Embarcadero because the monastery, a few km further on is now a posh hotel and has no peregrino accommodation. This I found out the following day!

Text: 8.33pm Maisie – At least u got people there & get clean. END DAY 5 = approx. 17.5kms.

Total approx. 108kms according to book END WEEK 1

WEEK 2

21/05/07

Escatrón to Quinto

I walked away from my comfortable hostel at 7am and as the bar wouldn't open till 8 I went without my coffee, always a hard thing for me on camino. It soon joined a road that crossed the river and I took a few nice photos looking back towards the hostel as I next took a junction to my right. The way now went back down river with the hostel on the other bank. I felt sure it was just to look at the monastery and could just see the towers of it in front of me, and it was. I looked at the imposing building and the smart cars parked outside and then looked for the arrow that my guidebook said was by the left of the front entrance. I couldn't find it so went through the massive door, just as I anticipated it was very posh inside. I looked around, in front through glass doors was the courtyard but down to my right I could see into another room with a large reception desk. A man was speaking in English trying to pay his bill with a cash card and the man behind the desk could speak no English at all. I went through and tried to help but there was not much I could do as he had to get cash from somewhere. Now it was my turn and I asked for information on the monastery and was it possible to get a credential here. Well the receptionist knew what I was talking about and looked, but couldn't find anything resembling the credential. Apologising saying he was just holding the fort for someone else he rang another man in the next village but this man couldn't help either. I was told that there were plans to one day put a peregrino albergue here but he and the other man (both were connected to the church I think) were restoring a house in the next village and that was more likely to be completed as one, one day. The monastery was a four star hotel now, I got him to stamp my guidebook anyway. Ok so I was now allowed to go and look in the rather lovely patio in the centre of the building but unwashed peregrinos might feel a little out of place here! I left, then remembered I hadn't found the arrow and after looking again to no avail I went back in. The chap kindly left his post this time and came out into the forecourt and walked about halfway back up the car park then pointed to the high bank and garden and said
"There".
I looked but at first saw nothing then noticed the narrow flight of steps and a blob of yellow
"Oh! Gracias"
I waved goodbye and climbed the steep steps and past a stone wall and up a steep hill behind which joined a track across the mountainside. As anticipated, up and down through rough country, I came to the road again that would if I had turned left, taken me soon back to the bridge. I crossed the road and followed the arrows and soon carefully climbed down a steep path and crossed the river again into Sastago. Here I had a coffee and a tuna bocadillo (sandwich). It was only half past nine so I was doing well but from here the river meandered and so did the camino. Often I was high up on the edge of the valley where it is almost desert like and walking on new tarmac roads. Then back again down hard on the river edge, on a tiny path with the dry scrubby cliff of the valley walls towering over you. Then the river would move back away leaving the land be farmed again and the camino was once again be farm tracks. I took a short cut I think at one point sticking to a new road and heading for the village I could see in the distance. Anyway it was the right village. By 2pm I was nearing Vililla de Ebro and text Maisie. I was meaning to buy food and get water and stop on the far side of this town. This town, if I remember right it was a strange sort of place and I was too early for the shops to be open. I stopped for a vino de verano (wine and lemonade) in a old fashioned bar full of elderly men. As I drank my cool wine and told the attractive barmaid my story she told me she was Cuban. I misheard Cordoba and said I had been there but we soon laughed as we realised the mistake. All alone with no family she had arrived in Madrid a few years before, but hated the big city. Somehow she had found this remote little village. There must have been an incredible story here but I had to got on. I wished her luck and happiness and gave Marcia a koala and my email. Maybe one day I would hear her story in full. She filled my water bottles and I left her sitting there behind the bar with only old men to chat to.
The next village was Gelisa and I stopped here and waited for the shops to open in a café in the main square. It was here that I got in conversation with some ladies, I tried to tell them how my camino had started in Barcelona. I thought one or two looked at me a little strangely but at the time I thought nothing of it. I had used the words 'Robo' this means 'I rob' and I believe that moment was to haunt me for days!!!
Leaving the bar I bought bread, beans and a little cabrita chop (young goat) in a tiny butcher's shop in a back street and then left town and crossed the river. I had to go under a tall modern convex bridge. It looked like rain so I stopped under it and against a huge ugly concrete pillar cooked my nice dinner and ate it sitting on a lump of cold concrete hoping the threatening rain would pass over.
A little of the rain was falling, as the guardia drove past and I waved to them but it soon stopped again so having eaten I headed after them down the track by the side of the river.
That rainstorm was still threatening to fall as I got to Quinto. I chatted to another lady sweeping her doorstep and she gave me a bottle of water. I in return gave her a koala and cheerily set off again. I passed through this town because the cheapest hostel I could find was 25E a night and not very friendly. Ok I could camp as long as it didn't rain too much I decided. I was worried but after scaling a pit that looked as if it was an ecological dig I came across a big stack of huge pipes. They were alongside the railway line, about one-km or so out of town. Here was room for my tent and as long as they never started work too early shifting them with a tractor or a big truck. Mmm! I would be ok I hoped. There was a lot of wood that had been used to hold the packs of pipes together, I collected enough to form a solid base to stand the tent on so keeping it up off the ground. I put the tent over them and managed to peg it in place. Now I went back to the pipe rubbish and dragged out a huge piece of the plastic that the pipes had been wrapped in. From this I cut a piece that would go over the tent completely. I pegged one side down and made it so I could pull it over the tent as I got in. Now what about those tractors? My tent would look like the rest of the rubbish, shucks!!! I got a few bits more of the timber and tried to prop them up at the corners hoping someone would look before driving his truck over this heap of rubbish. Well it never looked much safer but I crawled into bed for the night. Very little rain to test my camp but that wood was hard and those damn trains roared by a few feet away all night!!!

END DAY 6 = 31 Km's Total = 139 km's according to book

18/05/07 Batea to Fabara

Batea to Fabara

I had not slept very well, the ground was sloping and my sleeping bag kept slipping on the silver base mat and I was fighting with it all night. I was up and up and away by 8am, it was a good two km walk to Batea here I found a nice café called L'antoni and charged up the phone for half an hour. It says in the guidebook it is a hostel but I did not see the sign. Anyway I had camped ok. Here I had coffee and cakes and got a stamp in my guidebook. Then I found a nice bakers and on hearing I was on a pilgrims walk, I was given a cake. I gave a Koala to return the favour and the daughter then gave me a great slab of Tarta de Santiago cut into six big pieces all wrapped separately!!! I sat in the square and ate one yummy piece and then carried the rest over the next few days. It was great and restored my energy several times.
I left town about 10 am. The track turned off on the left and I walked up hill to the top of a plateau. It was not well marked and at times I was worried that I might be on the wrong track but after a large signboard about the caminos it was marked much better. Later on the track took me down to the river.

The concrete road crossed the river and the water looked clear although signs said the river is terrible polluted. I had not showered for days, so went to the other side stripped off and went to the middle, sunk into the cold water and swam a little to wash the sweat from my body. I sat on some rocks and dried myself and dressed again. It had been cold but I felt refreshed and hoped my skin wouldn't peal and that I had not drunk any of the infected water!
The guidebook said I had to pass some agricultural factories to arrive at Fabara. There were three groups of factories and twice I was disappointed not to see the town but at last there was the town as I came round a bend. In Fabara I had two claras (shandy) and a meal in a bar at half past three, it was twenty past seven when I left. Now the track climbed too 378m and was a tough track and hard climb.
I reached the top the highest point just 4km past Fabara and looked for a campsite as it was getting late. There was a flat piece to the left of the track and I was tired after my climb and my rucksack was very heavy. I'd stop here I decided. I put up the tent and took another look at the sky, it looked as if it might storm in the night. That would not be good as to the side of my camping spot the ground sloped up and I could imagine it working like a roof sending floodwater down to my campsite. There was a pine tree on the first part of the slope I would camp under that with the head of the tent up hill. It might work. I moved camp and noticed I had little water to drink. I set up sheets to catch water if it rained as best I could.

END DAY 3 = approx 20.1kms Total approx 66.1kms

19/05/07

Fabara to Chiprana

Sliding down inside the tent because it was on the slope kept me awake most of the night but as black as the sky had become it hadn't rained other than a few spots so no water collected. It looked as if it might soon though, so I quickly packed up and threw out a good shirt and a T-shirt to try to lighten the backpack. I was using everything at times and washing was a problem. I had done none, and socks and shirts were running low. Now one shirt and a T-shirt were gone, I would not have to wash them at least. The camino into Caspe was hard and long, much of it along the high ridge and as the guidebook said cart tracks were cut deep into the rock in places showing how old this part of camino was. A long and hilly journey and no breakfast but for the tarta de Santiago. Now it was raining too.
It stopped as I came up a rise and found a heap of discarded kilometre stone markers and chuckled to myself 'That's just like the few kilometres I have collected!

I at last walked through an industrial area where a guard dog that was loose but with its owner wanted a feed of peregrino. As the dog, big teeth glistening, approached I would stop and the man shouted and reluctantly so would the dog. Then as I moved on the beast would come rapidly towards me again and more shouts. At last the animal seemed to think I was going away and with one last charge in my direction it went back to the guy and barked from there. I made my way over the hill and down into the town.




Here I asked several times for a café and at last found one called El Quijote. Here I stacked my wet gear in the corner and ordered a ensalada mixta and a clara (mixed salad and a shandy). A small child was crying and I asked if it was all right and gave a Koala to the little one. In return the young lady behind the bar then gave me a sachet of emu oil that she was trying to sell in albergues along the French camino. It is very good for soothing the feet and thinking about it now, I have never seen an emu with blisters! I thanked her and gave away another Koala and left my gear there while I went up the street to buy bread. On my return she stamped my Guidebook and dated it because I had been unable to get the credential one needs to prove you have walked the camino. We swapped addresses and she kindly gave me a camino shell hat badge and I returned to my camino.

Somewhere I cut a new staff from a roadside shrub, it was a bit too thin after the bark had been cut off but it would do for now, as I was not too happy with the cane as it was splitting at the bottom. I walked to Chiprana and detoured into the small town and found a busy café but no hostel. I ate some meatballs and had a coffee. My pedometer said eighteen km and my feet were sore now, I thought I had done a bit more. I went back to the roundabout and found the arrow. I really don't know where the camino went after that, it did not tally with the guidebook as far as I could see. I remember going round on the left of a lake and picking cherries from the orchard.

I could not see the Ermita of San Marcos mentioned in the guidebook although I had been told in town it was out there somewhere. After a few kilometres the terrain was very barren.
5073I passed a car on the gravel track with its doors wide open waiting for its owner to return. They obviously did not expect thieves round here I thought. I looked back from a rise on the track and a car had arrived with the owner and a mechanic I presumed. I walked on and there was now a strip of un-farmed land alongside the track. I thought I might be able to use it for the tent. I could just see the town of Chiprana in the distance so must have been 3 or four kilometres out, maybe more. I set up the tent under a clear sky and as I had eaten something, I crawled into bed early. I was tired and needed a good nights sleep!

Boom! Thunder!!!! I peeped out, enormous black clouds overhead. Then it started to rain. Oh boy did it rain! Huge raindrops the size of golf balls that hit the tent and came in the front opening. I grabbed the camera, phone and things and pulled them back under my head. I hoped the waterproof pillowcase would keep them dry. I was only half inside my sleeping bag as I had been warm, now I felt the rain spraying onto my back!! I was getting soaking wet.
'Pull out the car window bubble foil sheet that you use as a extra ground sheet! If you can get that over yourself you might keep relatively dry and not feel the cold' I said to myself. Yes I was cold now as I felt the water sapping the heat from my body. This action was not easy in a tent about 40cm high!!! Ok it was dryer but as I cuddled the sleeping bag my arms got wet! Yuck! Water was flooding the tent, it could get in, but not out!!! I would have to get out and get dressed and get my cape round me it might be more waterproof!!!. I doubted that though they were made of similar material! I don't know how I did it but I was now damp but dressed and wrapped in the cape outside. What now? Rain was still falling like a wall of water. I looked for a rock to sit on and found one some little way away. It was cold and wet to sit on. I then had the idea of getting the car window bubble sheet to sit on I went back and got it and also remembered the foil emergency blanket in my bag. The rucksack was in a big plastic rubbish bag hopefully keeping things dry. I opened it up and dived in and found the foil blanket and a fine mosquito net my daughter Jo had given me for round my hat. I quickly zipped up the rucksack and closed the bag again and hoped it would keep things in there dry. I returned and tried to get comfortable on the rock but there was nothing to lean on. I changed my idea and put the bubble on the ground against the rock and up the side of it and then sat down trying to cover with the cape as much of my seat and me as I could. The cape was as wet inside as it was outside and not keeping much out. I had the hood over my head but I could feel the rain running down my neck. Ok now I got down inside the cape and worked the silver sheet up over and around me covering everything but my face. Every time I moved, a leg or boot slipped out into the rain!! I tried the mosquito net on my hat and made it cover the opening over my face. The hole was as small as I could make it to keep out the torrential rain. The foil being plastic did at last keep out the rain. Arms holding my legs I tried to sleep and I did keep dropping off, out of exhaustion I think. God that was a long night and I thought I'll am going to die. Another enormous crash of lightning, almost overhead. I tucked my head completely inside so I couldn't see. My mind went on tormenting me
'Here you are wrapped in a foil sheet and the biggest thing for miles! There is not a tree or house or even a rock bigger than you. You will surly die of exposure or be toasted to a crisp by lightning by morning. Will anybody be able to tell Maisie?'
I have no shame I was scared stiff and prayed hard that night.

END DAY 4 = approx. 24.4kms. Total approx. 90.5kms according to book.